The days were long, the nights were longer, and I felt like I was in hell. On the sixth day after our last encounter, I heard his voice outside that evening. My heart skipped a beat after realizing he’d finally come around.
I wasn’t sure what I felt, but it was a mix of fear and anger. I sat on the floor with my back against the wall, my pulse racing. Since it was his first time back here in almost a week, I had no doubt he’d drop by to chat with his prisoner.
I waited.
After a few minutes, I heard measured footsteps approaching my cell. I knew it was him—and the closer he drew, the faster my heart raced.
The footsteps stopped outside my door. Then, after a fleeting moment, the iron hinges creaked and gave way, revealing the man at the entrance. He was dressed in a black outfit—a plain shirt and a pair of creased pants.
As usual, his hands were gloved, and his hair was tousled like he never bothered to comb it. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, and a loose tie was hanging around his neck.
My colleagues used to say that I never took my appearance seriously. But my negligence in that aspect was nothing compared to his. He was nonchalant about his looks, even though his clothes always screamed quality.
His polished shoes scuffed against the concrete as he walked inside. “This place smells like shit,” he said, meeting my gaze.
I locked my jaw, knowing he was trying to get on my nerves even though he just fuckin’ arrived.
“Smells like piss, actually,” I answered, maintaining a blank expression. “But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
He halted a few paces ahead, lips curling into a faint smirk. That smirk I hated so damn much. He glanced around the cell. “I see you’re settling in just fine. Although I can’t say I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Fuck you.
The scent of his cologne drifted into my nostrils: the first good smell I’d inhaled all week.
My face twisted into a frown. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
He let out a quiet chuckle. “I own the place. I can stop by whenever I want.”
My scowl deepened. “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot you’re a vindictive monster who can do whatever he wants and get whatever he wants any time, any day.”
There it was again, that pesky little smirk.
“Don’t tell me after all this time you’re still holding a grudge.”
“Grudge?” I sprang to my feet, triggered by his words, his calmness, and that stupid grin. “Oh, Mr. Monster, we’re way past that right now.” I marched toward him as though I stood a chance.
He didn’t take his eyes off me, didn’t take a step forward or back. He only stood there, watching me as I vented my anger.
“We’re at the point where you have to choose whether you’re gonna kill me or let me go!” The words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “You can’t keep me here forever!”
“Why should I kill you or let you go? There’s no fun in that.”
Unbelievable.
“Fun?” My blood boiled with fury, and he just kept flashing me that smirk. “My misery is entertainment to you?”
He shrugged. “More or less.”
I shook my head, fingers curling into fists at my sides. “I can’t wait to see you behind bars, to see you pay for all your crimes.”
His brows arched in disbelief. “I’m intrigued by your naïveté, little lawyer, but you’re on the wrong side of this war.” He walked past me, eyes fixed on the finished plate of food in the corner.
“You might think you’re untouchable, but I promise you, you’re not.” I folded my arms across my chest and faced him.
He turned around. “You do realize the very system you have so much faith in has abandoned you, right?”
I paused, his words slicing through my heart like a sharp knife. “That’s not true—I’m sure they’re looking for me, and they’ll find me soon enough.”
